I Saw God Today
by tatianolishka
Summary: Songfic - Eric's about to lose everything, and all it took was a little miracle to lift his spirits. EricOC.


I do not own CSI: Miami or any of its characters. I'm only borrowing Delko for this. :) I also do not own George Strait's song or its lyrics, or anything like that. This song is "I Saw God Today", and I hope you enjoy the fic. 

* * *

I still don't believe it. I just can't.

My feet pound unevenly along the hallway, and people stare as I walk by. They see the burn marks on my shirt, the soot in my hair, and they think I need help. But the scrapes and scars on my skin are far less hurtful than the ones that tear open my heart and make it bleed with sweat, tears and painful rushes of blood. I'm fine on the outside, and there's no doubt in my mind about that. On the inside, I'm losing everything in an instant. Amber flames and rising smoke that envelop my life in less than a moment. Her screams still echo in my mind, and tears roll down my cheeks. My face, normally set in stone or with a smile just for her, is now turned down to the ground as I sink to my knees. Leaning against a wall, I finally let myself go.

I can't forgive myself. It's my fault Sissi was there, that she hadn't gone home that day. She should've been watching TV and getting ready. Instead, she insisted on coming to this crime scene. I thought it was safe, thought it'd been cleared. I let her go in without a second thought. And now, I'm losing them. I'm losing the love of my life, the one who I thought would be beside me forever. I'm losing her, and my baby. I remember watching her, chuckling to myself when she complained about the baby's insistent kicks that caused her so much pain. I'd wrap my arms around her and kiss her neck, telling her it would be alright. Her smile... God, that smile, the one she only gave me. I can't believe I might never see her smile again.

The nurse comes up to me, suggesting I go to the cafeteria and get some coffee. She says that they're trying to get Sissi's baby out and save her, and that they'll page me when they have news. I don't want to go, though. Like a stubborn child, I don't want to leave. In my fading heart, I know there's nothing more I can do for them. I reluctantly get up and move down the corridor. I find myself smiling, remembering Sissi's first complaint about being a mother. She loves her coffee with a bit of whiskey mixed in. She moped for days when she found out she was pregnant, which meant she couldn't have her alcohol. I remember laughing, and telling her that she would forget about the whiskey soon enough. And she did. She was getting so excited about being a mother, and I don't remember a single day where a mention of the baby brought a light to her eyes.

_Just walked down the street to the coffee shop_  
_Had to take a break_  
_I'd been by her side for 18 hours straight_

Taking the Styrofoam cup from the man behind the counter, I went towards a corner table. I bow my head, just thinking about what would happen. My mind is fighting itself, refusing to believe I'm losing everything in one fell swoop. I clench my fists, closing my eyes and trying to keep from crying again. I try to be strong, for Sissi's sake, but it's just not working. My bones seemed to crumble underneath my concrete mask, and for once it doesn't hurt to let the tears fall. Nobody stares here, because I'm not the only one letting go. I see an old man, sobbing as a younger woman wraps her arm around his shoulders. I guess that he had lost his wife, or maybe one of his own kids. Sighing to myself, I look out the window. Cruel sunshine sparkles through a dusty pane of glass, and I wish that it would go away. I wish that the sky would echo my aching heart and turn grey, with rain pouring down from dark clouds of guilt and sadness.

_The flashin' lights_  
_The honkin' horns_  
_All seemed to fade away_

If I told you I was Catholic, you probably wouldn't believe me. You'd see me in that corner booth, hanging my head and folding my hands in my lap, and think I was crazy. I don't have my rosary to count my prayers, or a bible in my hand, but I'm still praying. I'm still begging God to keep the only two people in my life that matter on this earth. Because Sissi and the baby - they're all I have. They're all that matter to me. I pray that God would take me instead, take the very breath he gave me and use it to give life to the woman I love and the child we created. I'm strong, I'm big, surely my life is enough to fill them both?

My coffee's cold, and I don't have the will to eat or drink. I just leave it on the table, getting up with a broken sigh and glancing over my shoulder. The saltwater that stings my eyes keeps me from seeing what time it is, but from the cruel light that comes through the windows I know it's probably five o' clock. But I'm far from wanting to be drinking. I go back out to the hallway outside of the ER, where a nurse is waiting for me. She smiles, and tells me the news.

"You're baby girl's here." she says. "Seven pounds, five ounces, perfectly healthy. Congratulations!"

In that moment, my whole world stops spinning. I'm a father. I have a daughter, a little baby girl. A piece of Sissi and I in a small, fleshy bundle. I turn to the nurse, sighing with relief.

"She's OK?" I ask, wanting to be sure.

The nurse nods, then puts her hand on my shoulder.

"You can see her in a minute." she promises, walking away without a care in the world.

_In the shadow of that hospital at 5:08_  
_I saw God today_  
I_'ve been to church_

_I've read the book_  
_I know he's here_  
_But I don't look_  
_Near as often as I should_  
_Yeah, I know I should_  
_His fingerprints are everywhere_  
_I just slowed down to stop and stare_  
_Opened my eyes and man I swear_  
_I saw God today _

I stare after her, expecting to have her come back a moment later and tell me it's all a mistake. Tell me that Sissi's baby is gone from this world, that her mother is dead as well. But she doesn't. I sit back down in my chair, aching with anxiety. I'm a father. I have a baby. Little things hit me, like what we're gonna name her, when we get to bring her home. For a moment, everything in my whole life revolves around Sasha Marisol. I decide that this will be her name before even seeing her, because I know that Sissi had been planning on naming her Sasha. She never told me; she kept it a secret. But I knew. I came home from work one day, a week or so before this all happened, and she was on the couch. She was half asleep, stroking her stomach and whispering to it. I leaned in the doorway, just watching this scene of maternal instinct. She kept calling her baby Sasha, telling her that she would be a strong little girl like her daddy.

Daddy. That name warms my heart, and I can't wait to hear it again. The nurse pokes her head in the room again, smiling. I get up, my hands shoved nervously into my pockets as I follow her down a dark hall. I glance back once as a pair of doors open, a post-op patient coming out. I check, but it's not Sissi. I glance at the other doors, but I don't see anything to assure me that she's OK. The nurse calls me, and I turn back and resume following her. Somehow, the fact that my daughter's still alive gives me hope that my wife'll come out of this alright as well. How can a girl grow up without her mother?

The nurse points through the glass of a window, and I follow her gaze. Another nurse walks in, smiling at me. In her arms, she holds a tightly-wrapped bundle that wraps my baby daughter in warmth. A smile creeps on my face, because I catch a glimpse of her face. Unlike the other babies there, she's sleeping soundly. She's so tiny, so small... so perfect. The nurse by my side giggles, then asks if I want to hold her.

_Got my face pressed up against the nursery glass_  
_She's sleepin' like a rock_  
_My name on her wrist_  
_Wearin' tiny pink socks_  
_She's got my nose, she's got her mama's eyes_

It's hardly a question. Of course I want to hold her. This is my baby, the little angel I've been waiting for. Since that first day, when Sissi cried as she told me I was gonna be a father, I'd obsessed over that little bump on her stomach. I'd obsessed over all the little things like the sonogram pictures, the pictures we'd put in her room, if it was safe to keep Sissi's cat. And now here she was, a perfect little person. The nurse brings her out and I sit down in a chair, holding out my arms. She's so tiny, and I'm afraid I was going to break her like she's some priceless crystal. My hand looks gargantuan when I use it to support her head and her back. That was when I finally get to see her face

She was the most beautiful baby girl this whole world had to offer. Long, brown hair like her mom. It was damp, but I could see those little curls that matched her mother's own. Even that little tuft that always got in Sissi's eyes was there, too short to cause any permanent damage. Her hands were the size of my thumbprint, her fingers like toothpicks. Her skin was dark, just like mine. Her entire face it seems... it just mirrors my own, in a more refined and feminine way. I chuckle, finding it funny. When she hears it, she turns her head towards me and makes a tiny noise. I kiss the top of her head and hold her close.

"It's OK." I whisper. "You don't need to be scared there, sweetheart."

I look down, and she opens her eyes a little. They're a beautiful blue, just like Sissi's. Sasha yawns, and I chuckle again.

"You're tired?" I ask her. "Well, I can understand that. Mommy put you through a lot, didn't she?"

I smile.

"And I bet all that caffeine didn't help."

Sasha gurgles, and I kiss her again.

"Thank you." I whispered, to both my daughter and to God. "Thank you."

_My brand new baby girl_  
_She's a miracle_  
_I saw God today_


End file.
